


life in colour

by kiyala



Series: flame and colour [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Holi, Indian Combeferre, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3486302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac wants to learn more about Combeferre's culture, and his excitement is infectious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	life in colour

"Hey," Courfeyrac says, on a March evening, leaning against Combeferre. "Tell me about Holi."

"Holi?" Combeferre turns to Courfeyrac with a curious smile, pulling him closer. "What brought this on?"

"I saw something about it on a flyer today." Courfeyrac climbs into Combeferre's lap, curling up against him. "I know it's an Indian thing but I don't really know much else, except that it involves a lot of colours. So I figured I'd ask."

Combeferre hums in thought, his hand coming up to idly stroke through Courfeyrac's hair. "To be honest, I don't know a lot about it. I can't say it's something I've celebrated for a while. All I know about it is what my mother told me, years ago. I'm talking long enough back that I probably hadn't even met you yet."

"That _is_ a long time." Courfeyrac raises an eyebrow. "Should I just ask Google instead?"

One of Combeferre's hands comes down to hold Courfeyrac by the hip, to keep him from moving away. "Let me see what I can remember first."

Smiling, Courfeyrac kisses the tip of Combeferre's nose. "Of course."

"It's a celebration of colour, for Winter turning into Spring. It's apparently also a celebration of love? Something about Krishna and Radha. I don't know the details, I don't know if I ever did. When I was a kid, we'd celebrate every year and it was my second favourite thing after Diwali. Imagine a water fight, except with coloured water, and coloured powder. We'd wear white shirts and old shorts that we didn't mind completely ruining and just go for it. The whole extended family, in my uncle's backyard. It was pretty great."

"It _sounds_ great," Courfeyrac replies, grinning. "The flyer I saw said that there's a big Holi festival this weekend at the park. Do you want to go?"

"I can tell that _you_ do," Combeferre replies, amused. "It's been a while since I've been to one, anyway. Sure. Let's do it."

"We'll invite everyone else too," Courfeyrac decides. "I, for one, would love to see Bahorel with a water gun full of dyed water."

"I think Enjolras would enjoy it." Combeferre grins at the thought. "Actually, I think everyone would. It'll be good to celebrate with all of them, too."

"I'm sending everyone a group text with the information right now." Picking up his phone, Courfeyrac types out a quick message and sends it to everyone. Combeferre's phone buzzes as it receives the message, but he doesn't bother checking it. Not when he has a lapful of Courfeyrac. 

"I'll drop by the Indian shop and pick up enough sweets for everyone," Combeferre decides. "We'll bring them with us on the day. It'll be easier than you trying to make them all yourself, before you suggest it."

Biting his lip, Courfeyrac grins. "You know me too well."

"I do." Cupping his cheek, Combeferre pulls him into a kiss. "And I appreciate this, Courfeyrac. I love you."

Smiling against Combeferre's lips, Courfeyrac whispers, "Love you too."

—«·»—

The thing is, Combeferre has never really cared all that much for Holi, or Ugadi, or Sankranti, or any of the festivals beyond Diwali. He was never particularly religious, even back when he still identified as a Hindu. Growing up away from India, with nothing but his extended family and a handful of family friends meant that most of the culture seemed too far removed for him to engage with and he's never been very interested in engaging anyway. He has his few traditions, and that's enough for him.

Courfeyrac, however, is eager to do all he can to learn about Combeferre's culture and his excitement is a little contagious. As the weekend approaches, their friends get more excited for it, too. Bahorel and Feuilly coordinate a group shopping trip to the toy store to buy water guns and very narrowly avoid getting kicked out for chasing each other down the aisles while making sound effects. Enjolras sits down and starts strategising, until Grantaire takes him aside and reminds him that it's meant to be _fun_. Combeferre lets Enjolras plan as much as he wants, knowing full well that any plans are going to go flying out the window as soon as they get to the park anyway.

He doesn't think he's ever looked forward to a festival so much in his entire life and just the way he'd enjoyed Diwali so much, it's all because of Courfeyrac. It's ridiculous, just how much love Combeferre can have for one person, but it swells in his chest whenever he looks at Courfeyrac now; whenever they're cuddling on the couch with books, or in bed, or even just on their way past each other in the morning as they both get ready for work. 

On Friday night, before Courfeyrac comes home from work, Combeferre calls his mother.

"I'm going to a Holi celebration tomorrow," he tells her. "With all my friends."

"Oh." She sounds pleased. "Do you have _halwa_ for everyone? I can email you a recipe if you need—"

"I bought some," Combeferre tells her, glancing at the tub full of it sitting on the kitchen counter. "I'm just calling because… well, it was Courfeyrac's idea. He's the one who saw a flyer about it and asked me what it was, and when I told him about how much fun I used to have celebrating it, he thought that we should go, with all of our friends."

"He's a good man," Combeferre's mother hums approvingly. "You already know what I'm going to say."

With a sigh, Combeferre nods even though she can't see it. "Yes I do."

"And it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks about it," she tells him confidently. "Appa and I love you, no matter what. It's what we told you years ago and I'm telling you the same thing now. Courfeyrac loves you and he wants you to be happy. That's all I ever needed to know. I'm happy as long as you're happy and if he makes you happy, well…"

Combeferre smiles, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath until he's sure his voice is even. "Thanks, Amma. Love you too."

"Enjoy Holi," she tells him. "Take photos and send them to us."

–«·»—

Predictably, the festival is chaos. It's loud, it's crowded, it's messy and it's _fun_. They spend the morning running around chasing each other, chasing strangers with water guns, throwing coloured powder at each other. It's exhausting, but in the best kind of way.

Bahorel and Feuilly are the first to get themselves covered from head to toe in a riot of colour, reds and blues and purples and oranges in bright patches all over their skin and clothes. Bossuet has Joly's green handprint on the top of his head and every time Joly sees it, he dissolves into a fit of giggles. Jehan looks like some sort of ethereal beauty in a mess of colours and Grantaire looks perfectly at home among all the colour, laughing as he drags Enjolras into the thick of it.

Courfeyrac is laughing with delight and he looks gorgeous, with streaks of colour all over his face and his arms, his white shirt soaked through and sticking to him, turning blue and green from the dye. Combeferre wants to kiss him, but settles for stroking his cheek, leaving a smear of bright yellow behind. Courfeyrac grins at him, leaving a patch of light blue powder on the side of Combeferre's neck in return.

"I love you," Combeferre murmurs. "Marius is at your five o'clock. On my count, we'll sneak up on him and attack."

Courfeyrac laughs, nodding eagerly. They end up making Marius scream, which only draws Bahorel and Feuilly over to join in. The rest of them group together in pairs until they're all together, laughing as Marius stands in the middle of the group, his face pink from blushing and green from the colours. 

The festival winds to an end for lunch, people sitting on the grass as they catch their breath and let their clothes dry. There are stalls selling food and the weather's pleasant enough that they're happy to sit outside with each other for a couple of hours until the festival organisers start packing up and they take it as a cue to part ways too. Combeferre and Courfeyrac are hosting dinner later that night, but everyone's decided to take the rest of the afternoon to rest for a while after their morning.

"It's so lovely to share your culture with you," Jehan says, clasping Combeferre's hand.

"Thank Courfeyrac," Combeferre replies with a fond smile. "He's the one who organised it."

"I'm glad you all had fun." Courfeyrac takes Combeferre's hand and squeezes gently. "Especially you."

Combeferre's smile grows a little softer. He and Courfeyrac hold hands the entire way home, swinging them gently as they walk. Combeferre doesn't think he's ever been happier than he is right now and he doesn't realise he's staring until Courfeyrac laughs softly and says, "What?"

"Nothing," Combeferre shakes his head, looking away as he digs his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door with his free hand. "I'm just… really grateful I have you in my life."

"I'm glad I have you, too."

Combeferre turns to Courfeyrac when they're inside and takes him in properly. He has colour in his hair, pastel pink and green in his curls. His brown skin makes the colour on it stand out brightly and that's what Courfeyrac is now, more than ever. Brightness, joy, fun and kindness, taken physical form and covered in dye and coloured powder. Combeferre steps forward, closing the distance between them and taking Courfeyrac's face into his hands, kissing him firmly. 

"I love you," he says, and he's meant to stop there, to save the rest for later, for when they're not both standing in the entrance of their apartment covered in a mess of colour, but it comes rushing out of him and he has no hope of stopping it. "I love you so much, Courfeyrac, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Marry me. Please." 

Courfeyrac stares at him, a smile spreading across his face. "Really?"

"Really. I have a ring, I was going to—this was all meant to go differently, but you were _standing there_ , and I love you, and I couldn't wait." Combeferre rubs a hand over his face and laughs nervously. "I'll go and get it, if you want. I'll ask properly and—"

"You don't have to do that." Courfeyrac stops him, taking hold of his hand. He uses it to pull Combeferre back for another kiss. "Yes I'll marry you. Of course I'll marry you."

Combeferre laughs with relief, even though he knows that he had no reason to be nervous, that he knew what Courfeyrac's answer would be anyway. It doesn't matter now, though, because Courfeyrac's said yes, they're _engaged_ , and Combeferre was entirely wrong when he thought he couldn't possibly feel any happier before. He feels like his heart might burst and he can't tell if kissing Courfeyrac makes it feel better or worse, but he's willing to keep doing it anyway.

"I do have a ring," Combeferre murmurs, when they finally pull apart. "I bought it a while ago and it's been sitting there, waiting while I gathered the nerve. It's been hiding in one of my drawers." 

Laughing softly, Courfeyrac presses another brief kiss to his lips. "I'd love to see it, but I feel like I should be the responsible one and stop you from going through your drawers when you're covered with dye. We should shower first. Together, maybe. I like the sound of showering with my fiancé."

Combeferre grins, leading the way to the bathroom.

—«·»—

The ring is a simple band of brushed platinum, with a darker stripe through the middle. Enjolras already knows, by the time that everyone starts arriving for dinner and both Combeferre and Courfeyrac's parents know, but Courfeyrac doesn't mention it to anyone else, simply wearing the ring and waiting for everyone else to notice.

It's Joly who notices first, which sets off a commotion of everyone congratulating them and walking closer to take a closer look at the ring. Marius bursts into tears and Jehan consoles him, until Courfeyrac takes over, laughing and hugging Marius tightly. Combeferre thinks he might see a faint sheen to Courfeyrac's eyes too, but it's gone in the next moment, and Courfeyrac is walking back to his side, taking his hand. 

"So, I asked your mother to send me another recipe a few days ago," Courfeyrac says. "And when I told you I was working late last night, I was actually at Bahorel, Feuilly and Jehan's place, cooking. They were all kind enough to cover for me."'

"That container you brought with you…" Combeferre realises, looking over at Feuilly, who grins in reply.

"I know how much you like _gulab jamun_ ," Courfeyrac grins. "And I mean, it was my first attempt, so take that into consideration. I hope it's okay."

"Wow," Combeferre breathes, taking both of Courfeyrac's hands into both of his. "You're the best fiancé in the entire world."

Courfeyrac laughs in reply, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Combeferre firmly. Bahorel wolf-whistles and the rest of their friends cheer loudly. Combeferre simply smiles and kisses back.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holi!!
> 
> Title from Life In Colour by OneRepublic


End file.
